Portraits of Alderaan
by organanation
Summary: Bail Antilles has just been sworn in as the Senator for Alderaan. Princess Breha Organa is starting to take over for her terminally ill mother, the Queen. The two bond over a mutual love of their planet but soon begin to develop feelings for each other. How will they handle their blossoming relationship in the tumultuous and changing world of politics?
1. Prologue

_AN: The long-awaited day has arrived! Before we begin, I have a few people to thank quickly. Thank you to julie-yard and corellian-smuggler for sticking with me from the beginning, listening to my crazy ideas and reading little bits and pieces that changed 8000 times before the end. You guys are great, and there's no way I could have done this without you. Thanks also to amilynh and captainskysolo for their topnotch beta-ing. Thanks for not making me look stupid. And thanks to all of you lovely people on tumblr who encouraged me since I started telling you about this project! I hope you enjoy the whole thing as much as you've enjoyed the tiny teasers I've given you. Without further ado, let's begin!_

Breha took the last pin from between her teeth, jamming it into the loose section of her braids. Smoothing a hand over her skirt, she took one last glance in the mirror. She was so proud—her mother had _finally_ let her get ready for a portrait session by herself. It was about time, too—she was nearly 13, for stars' sake. Of course, she'd have to pass muster in her parents' chambers in a few minutes, but she'd been allowed to pick out her own gown and do her own hair by herself.

Later this year, they'd be celebrating her mother's 10th year on the throne of Alderaan, and today they were sitting for the new official portrait.

The princess knocked on her parents' door and it slid open to reveal her father wearing his fancy cape with the gold fringe and the flower decorations. A crystal pin hung on the front, just over his heart.

"You look splendid, Little Girl," her father complimented, bending at the waist to bow.

"Thank you, Papa. So do you," Breha replied.

A raspy cough came from the bedroom, calling the attention of the Viceroy and the young Princess. Breha's worried gaze turned to her father.

"Papa, is she still sick?" Breha murmured.

"Just a little cough. Nothing to worry about," he eased, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder and drawing her under his arm. "Brindel, you're going to have to go and get our Little Girl from her room. She's sent some imposter in her place—there's no way our girl is this mature and beautiful yet," he called playfully.

The queen came slowly from the bedchamber a moment later, looking resplendent in her sapphire gown. A row of kyber crystals was nestled along the ridge of braids that circled her head. She gave her daughter a tired but lovely smile and beckoned the girl over.

"You did very well with your hair," her mother commended, placing a gentle hand on Breha's cheek. "Just one thing missing." The queen produced a small row of kyber crystals that matched her own. She tucked it into Breha's carefully crafted braids and fastened it with a pin.

"My two favorite girls. You two look good enough to be in a painting," the Viceroy joked.

"Saul," the queen scolded without malice. She reached for his arm. It didn't escape Breha's notice that her mother was leaning heavily on her father. Still, there was a look of peaceful calm on Brindel's face, and Breha couldn't be too worried.

The royal family walked the short hall to the rotunda. The artist from the Painter's Collective was all set up and waiting for them. She greeted them graciously and got them arranged on the stools that had been set up, and then she set right to work.

 _AN: Just a short little intro today-come back on Sunday to read the first chapter! Please leave me a review-I'll be good about replying this time, I promise!_


	2. Getting to Know You

_Nine Years Later…_

"I do, of my own free will and desire for service, affirm that I will faithfully represent the principles of Alderaan to the Galactic Senate, and that I will promote peace and justice in allegiance with our Queen and people.

"Congratulations, Senator Antilles. The Viceroy and the Princess are waiting in the residence to welcome you. Unfortunately, Queen Brindel is too ill to greet you herself," the official stated. Bail nodded solemnly. The Queen's condition was common knowledge.

"Thank you, Councilor. I will be on my way, then." He left the office in the lower level of the palace and followed a servant up to the residence. They passed several portraits on the way, and Bail looked over each one as they passed, watching as the royal families changed over the centuries.

The Viceroy and his daughter were waiting by a grand window thrown open wide. Bail bowed when they turned to greet him. He'd seen them before, of course, but he'd never met any of the royal family personally. The Viceroy was not yet 60, but he had the appearance of someone much older. It was evident that his queen's poor state was weighing heavily on his mind. He smiled a smile that didn't reach his eyes and extended his hand toward Bail.

"Congratulations, Senator Antilles. We're glad to have you. This is my daughter, Breha. She's taken on her mother's duties during her illness, so you'll be seeing quite a bit of each other."

Standing confidently beside her stooped father, Breha Organa was possibly the most beautiful girl Bail had ever seen. She was 22, the same age as one of his younger sisters. Her eyes were dark, but not in a threatening or melancholy way. They were kind, caring, and looked at him like she could read his entire life's story by looking at him. She smiled warmly, the corners of her eyes crinkling up just slightly. It was possibly the cutest thing he'd ever seen, and he had trouble keeping his voice neutral.

"Greetings, Your Highness," he choked out, bowing slightly to her.

"Greetings. Congratulations on your election, Senator. I look forward to getting to know you." She smiled that gentle smile again and held out a delicate hand. He took it in his and felt the spark immediately. It was obvious from the way her eyes jumped to his that she felt it, too.

00

Bail spent the next three months on Coruscant, settling into life as Alderaan's primary senator. He was busy every second, balancing sessions with committee meetings and other meetings on top of paperwork and sleep.

He found, though, that his even his busy schedule could not keep Breha Organa from his mind. It didn't help that he communicated with her at least once a week. It wasn't a hard-and-fast _rule_ that the Senator and the leader of a planet had to communicate all the time, but Bail found it was nice to converse with someone who also had Alderaan's best interest at heart.

At least, that was how he justified the hour-or-better conversations with her. They almost always stuck to business, leaving only a few minutes at the beginning and end of the communication for personal conversation, but he found he looked forward just as much to talking politics with her as he did speaking candidly. Breha was quite intelligent; she had a mind for governing and a knack for leadership. They'd spent a large portion of their most recent conversation—and several subsequent text communications—discussing a trade agreement that in no way affected Alderaan or Bail's committee, but had seemed interesting and sparked a conversation that neither had been inclined to stop.

And, maybe it was just wishful thinking, but Bail was starting to think the princess was flirting with him. Familiar banter and comfortable conversation were normal, as were lingering farewells, and moments where neither spoke but both were content to merely sit in silence. The _princess_ of _Alderaan. Flirting._ With _him._

It was never a theory he was able to test until he was back on Alderaan for a few days.

Bail took a bite of his lunch and glanced out the window of his office in the palace. Alderaanian culture highly valued nature and all the gifts it gave, so the gardens spread out below him were full and well-tended. There were rare varieties of plants that drew botanists to the palace, and there was a sector of the garden where vegetables and fruits were grown for use in the kitchens. That was where Princess Breha was sitting out and enjoying the sunshine on that particular day.

Bail abandoned his lunch and fumbled around his office for a book, datapad, something he could take to make it seem like he'd gone to get a breath of air and catch up on his reading during lunch.

"Why, Your Highness, what a pleasant surprise," he lied when he walked up behind her a few minutes later. She was kneeling in front of a raised bed of firebud plants, her pink skirt tucked carefully around her and her delicate sheer sleeves rolled away from her wrists. There was a wide-brimmed woven-fiber hat perched regally on her head.

"Hello, Senator. Out for a breath of fresh air?" Breha asked, standing as she spoke and brushing her hands together to loosen the dirt.

"Yes. And you, tending to the vegetables?"

"Gardening is a hobby of mine. I do find it relieves tension, but it's not easy to pursue to great lengths when one is relegated to dresses like these" she explained.

"You look quite lovely today, Your Highness," he complimented.

"You're too kind, Senator."

"Would you care to walk with me?" Bail invited.

"Lead the way." They fell into step smoothly, as though they did this every day. "Has it been difficult to return to our quiet way of life after being on Coruscant?" Breha asked. Bail observed that there was a certain lilt to her voice that was not picked up by holocommunication devices, one he would miss as soon as he returned to the Senate later in the week.

"Not at all. Everything here is so calm and natural. Coruscant feels…cold and sterile. Though, perhaps it is the company that I miss, and not the atmosphere," he mused, giving her a smile. The princess returned the smile from beneath her wide-brimmed hat.

"You give me far more credit than is due," Breha assured. Bail only shrugged. They came around the bend in the garden path that brought them to overlook the city, and they paused at the wall to savor the view.

"You look like you're a thousand parsecs away, princess," Bail murmured, brushing his hand over her arm.

"Oh, just thinking…"

"About?"

"If there's any way I could convince the leader of the House of Lords to meet out here instead of indoors," she admitted conspiratorially. Bail chuckled. "When it was nice out, Momma and I always used to have our lessons out here, right over there by those lilies. They're her favorite," Breha explained, directing his attention to a bed of tall white flowers waving gently in the breeze.

"I'll have to remember that in case I ever need to get in Her Majesty's good books," Bail mentioned.

"Excuse me, Senator, but I believe _I_ am the acting monarch at this time," Breha teased.

"Well, you'll just have to tell me _your_ favorite flowers, then."

Breha swallowed a smile.

"These," she answered, brushing her hand gently over the purple flower on her hat. "Chinensis roses. There are very few flowers that have such a deep plum color."

"I sincerely hope that I never do anything to end up in your bad graces, but I'll keep that in mind," Bail promised. Breha smiled and looked about the garden as they continued their walk. Bail watched her serene expression as she glanced through each bed of flowers with a practiced eye.

"What?" the princess asked when she realized he'd been staring intently at her.

"Oh, just _thinking_ ," Bail echoed her earlier sentiment playfully. Breha rolled her eyes.

"About?"

"How lovely the garden is at this time of the afternoon," he stated, their hands brushing between them. Breha's lips turned upwards into a soft smile.

"It is a beautiful day," she agreed, wondering how many repetitions of that sentiment were too many. "I think my next meeting is in the East room; that will give us plenty of light."

"Indeed," he agreed. Breha glanced at her chrono.

"I should go. The Lords will not appreciate it if I'm late. I'll see you this evening."

"This evening?"

Breha smiled at the slightly panicked look on Bail's face.

"Yes…we have a meeting before you depart for Coruscant in the morning."

"Ah, yes. I look forward to it, Your Highness," Bail said sincerely, giving her a small bow. Breha smiled slightly and turned toward the palace. Bail sat on a bench and watched her as she walked away, head held high, shoulders back, skirt flowing artfully behind her. She removed the woven hat from her head and passed it to her secretary, Mirnora, who was waiting by the door. Just before she entered, Breha turned back to him and gave a small wave.

His chirping comm startled him out of his reverie.

"Where the devil are you? We've been waiting almost ten standard minutes!" complained Jules, Bail's political advisor.

"What—Jules, my apologies. I was having a very important discussion with the princess."

"Just get up here, will you? You've got meetings all afternoon and the Scheduling Office is going to have my head if we run over," he griped.

"Of course. I'll be right up." Bail started toward the lower entrance, paused, and pulled his comm out again. "Ah, Jules? Where is it I'm headed, again?"

00

Breha swept into her office just a few minutes before 1800, Mirnora scurrying close behind her.

"It's a miracle that people can talk so much and say absolutely nothing," Breha muttered, mostly to herself.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Right. Please, remind me what's next?" Breha requested, glancing over her desk and taking a calming breath.

"Your pre-departure meeting with Senator Antilles."

"Ah, yes. Thank you. Hopefully, this will be short and I can eat dinner with Papa tonight. Would you let him know that I'll be available in an hour?"

"Certainly, ma'am."

"Thank you, Mirnora. I think that will be all for today." Breha took her datapad and started for the stairs to the upper conference room.

"Your Highness, the senator contacted me and informed me that the meeting had been moved to the garden," Mirnora called. Breha stopped.

"Did he, now?"

"Yes, Princess. Right after lunch." Breha shook her head and walked quickly to the garden. He was waiting at a small table and stood when she approached.

"Good evening, Your Highness," Bail greeted, handing her a single Chinensis rose.

"Senator, have you caused some galactic rift in your short time in office that you are trying to sweet talk me into fixing?" Breha teased, taking the chair opposite him and winding the stem of the rose into her hair so that the blossom sat just over her temple.

"I thought you might enjoy the sunset with me while we discuss whatever it is that we're supposed to discuss."

"You _are_ trying to flatter me," she accused.

"Maybe. Is it working?"

Breha looked from the sun setting over the landscape to the dying light falling at strange angles across his handsome face.

"Maybe."

00

Bail returned to Coruscant the next morning, and the princess and the senator quickly resumed their evening chats. The frequency of their chats grew, as did their length, and soon, Bail found that his hour with Breha was his favorite hour of the day. As they both grew busier, their calls got pushed further and further back into the evening; Breha started appearing in a flowing robe with her hair hanging in a single braid over her shoulder. It was nice to know that she felt safe enough with him to forgo ceremony and instead be comfortable.

One night, while they were both putting off saying goodnight, Bail noticed how tired and drawn she looked.

"Princess, isn't it a bit late there?" Bail asked.

Breha glanced up at the chrono: 0130. Sleep wasn't coming easy to her these days. Her mother's health was failing fast, and she was watching her father's mind deteriorate before her eyes, as well. She was faced with the very real possibility that she would soon be the sole member of the Alderaanian royal family remaining.

"A bit. I could ask you the same question."

"The work of a Senator is never done," Bail teased.

"Ah, and there is nothing to prey upon the mind of a monarch?" she asked, adopting a falsely haughty tone. Bail could see in her eyes that there _was_ a big and pressing weight on her shoulders.

"Is there something preying upon your mind, Princess?" he asked gently. Breha looked at the floor, trying to decide what to say.

"Momma is getting worse each day, and he doesn't say as much, but I know Papa misses her already, on the days he can even _remember_ …I shouldn't trouble you with this."

"It's no trouble. You probably don't have many people to confide in." The princess shook her head. "What are the doctors saying?"

"Nothing particularly good. They're mostly trying to keep the pain down, right now. That's about all they can do."

"I'm very sorry. I wish I were closer…"

"No, no. I'm glad you're there. I know I can trust you to handle things on that end if…" Breha sighed. They sat in silence for a moment. Bail was wishing there was something he could do for her, wishing he were close enough to offer the comfort she so obviously was craving.

Breha hid an unladylike yawn behind her hand.

"You should get some sleep, your majesty."

"You can take your concerns and throw them out the airlock, Bail Antilles."

"You're busy caring about a lot of people, Princess. It's okay to let someone care about _you_ now and then."

"I'll try."

"If you ever need anyone to confide in, do not hesitate to confide in me. I serve, in official capacity, the crown and the people of Alderaan. However, it would be my great pleasure to serve _you_ in an unofficial capacity if the need ever arises, Breha." She smiled at the use of her familiar name instead of her title.

"Thank you."

"Same time tomorrow?"

"I look forward to it," the princess promised.

"Do get some sleep, Breha. Pleasant dreams."

"Pleasant dreams, Bail."

 _AN: Please leave a review if you enjoyed this! Next week: Bail and Breha attend a ball!_


	3. The Coruscanti Ball

_AN: Thanks to everyone who's commented!_

Once a standard year, there was an interplanetary conference held on Coruscant. All the leaders of the Core Worlds were invited to discuss inter-system commerce. Breha was anxious about leaving home with Brindel's health failing so rapidly, but her father had urged her to go, to relax for a few days. So, Breha had done as he advised, and was now standing in her suite on Coruscant.

The hotel where the conference was held was arguably the best on the planet. It had more than a hundred floors, and each floor was decorated to the style of a different planet or culture. There was a suite on each floor that was saved for the planet's dignitaries, and Breha was staying in the Alderaanian royal suite.

The conference kicked off with a dinner and a ball. Breha had been thrilled when Bail mentioned earlier in the week that he'd be there.

Bail entered the antechamber of the Alderaanian suite at the appointed hour, waiting to accompany Breha to the ball. He greeted her handmaiden, Mirnora, and the members of her security team.

"She was speaking briefly with her mother's doctor. They were nearly finished when I stepped out a moment ago," Mirnora promised. The door to the sleeping quarters opened, and Breha stepped out. She was beautiful, as always, this time in a forest green ball gown. There was a sort of overlay to part of it that was tinged with metallic gold thread and seemed to outline shapes of leaves. The overlay came up both sides and met at the waist, crossing there and winding on to form the sleeves of the dress. Her hair was in a few long braids, wound around her head in the typical style. A gold tiara of tiny leaves set with kyber crystals was nudged against the stack of braids. The forest-like theme was continued in the veil that was woven through her hair and hung down her back.

"Good evening, Your Majesty. I trust everything is well with Queen Brindel," Bail greeted, bowing low and kissing her hand. Her fingers lingered in his a moment as he straightened.

"Good evening, Senator Antilles. She's resting, now. The doctor is hopeful that today's procedure will alleviate some pain," Princess Breha returned kindly. Carlist stepped up behind her.

"Your Highness, seeing as we are both attending the ball unaccompanied, would you, perhaps, do me the honor of taking my arm?" Bail noticed over Breha's shoulder that Carlist was having trouble swallowing a smirk.

"The honor shall be all mine, Senator," Breha returned coyly, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. They walked through the extravagant hotel discussing the collection of paintings that hung around the wide lobby, which had been painted by an old Alderaanian master more than a century prior. One of his works, a large landscape, hung in the Organa's informal dining room. The ballroom was down a short hall off the main lobby, and was already buzzing with people when they arrived.

"Princess Organa, Senator Antilles, you are seated at table eight," the droid directed when they entered. They walked around the ballroom to table eight, stopping on the way to greet a few familiar faces. Breha realized with slight mortification that she'd taken a rather firm grip on Bail's strong arm, _and_ she'd begun tracing the stitching on his sleeve with her thumb. She was supposed to have a strictly professional relationship with Senator Antilles, and here she was, stroking his arm in a very formal, _very_ public setting. They were seated with a few other dignitaries, the young Queen from Naboo, a Lord and Lady from one of the Elder houses, and a senator Bail knew. The dinner conversation was polite and pleasant, but Breha could barely force herself to focus on the other guests when Bail was sitting beside her, contributing animatedly to the discussion. It was rare that she had the chance to see him in this pseudo-social context, and she found that she was enjoying his company just as much here as she did when they talked individually.

The Lord and his wife excused themselves when the dancing commenced after the meal. The young queen also left soon after to join the dancing. A few people drifted by to say hello, and the other senator at the table was pulled off into another conversation. Breha happily found herself with Bail's sole attention again.

Had Brindel Organa been present, she'd probably accuse her daughter of flirting. She'd be right. Breha, however, did not care one bit. Senator Antilles was flirting right back. Bail was recounting a story when his attention was suddenly tuned on something far across the room.

Following his intent gaze, Breha found a man in dark robes and a beautiful woman in a champagne-colored shimmer-silk dress, deep in conversation. Breha couldn't place the man, but the girl was one of the daughters of an Alderaanian noble family. The girl was about Breha's age, and they'd been rather friendly for a time before monarchal duties had taken Breha away from most of her social occupations.

Bail sighed and shook his head sadly as he beheld the pair, who seemed so involved in their conversation that they were completely oblivious to the rest of the ball room. The princess was surprised at the disappointment welling up in her chest, hiding it quickly behind a mask of calm indifference.

"Is something the matter, Senator?"

"How _could_ she?! She said they were—she's so—he's an absolute _womp rat_ —forgive me, Your Majesty. It's a personal matter. If you'll excuse me for a moment." He begged her pardon, standing and crossing the ballroom quickly. Breha kept her expression cool and detached as she watched him address the couple, though she felt a touch of jealousy, sadness, and embarrassment...She rather liked Senator Antilles and she had _not_ been subtle about her flirting…Perhaps it was for the better, though. After all, she and Bail would likely be working together for the next several years, possibly longer. It wouldn't do to have personal feelings in the way of their professional relationship.

Breha turned her eyes back to the quiet confrontation. The man left quickly, sulking off to a corner. The princess hoped she hid her displeasure better than he did. Bail took hold of the woman's arm in a decidedly personal manner and directed her, much to Breha's chagrin, toward their table.

Wasn't it enough that she was forced to attend this ball unaccompanied and was seated next to a man with whom she was infatuated? Why did she have to sit idly by and watch him fawn over another woman? And did she really have to _meet_ the object of his affections?

"Good evening, Your Highness." The woman bowed properly and Breha acknowledged the sentiment.

"I believe you know my sister, Celly," Bail introduced.

"Good eve— _sister?_ " Breha exclaimed, trying to keep the surprise from her voice and face.

"Yes, you weren't aware of that?"

"I may have been at one time, but…it did not occur to me," she apologized. _I knew you had a brother, Celly, but I didn't think your 'encroaching pest of an older sibling'_ _was_ him, the princess thought to herself.

"No apologies necessary, Your Highness. I'm sure you have other things of far greater importance on your mind. If you'll excuse me, please, I'm afraid I must go and do some _damage control_ ," Celly stated, looking pointedly at Bail.

"Of course, please, don't let me keep you."

Celly curtsied, shot a death-look at her brother, and stalked off to find her date.

"That one will be the death of me," Bail muttered. Breha chuckled.

Someone appeared beside her and asked if she'd favor him with a dance. She agreed, hoping that the look she shot at Bail would inspire him to come and rescue her after the piece was over. It seemed, though, that her luck had run out, as the next man to ask for a dance was not Bail, and neither was the next one, or the next.

Nearly an hour later, Breha was dancing with a rather dull man from one of the noble houses of Birren. She'd met him before, as Birren was also member of the Elder Houses, and he'd been just as dull then as he was now.

The piece they were dancing to ended and Breha could tell from the look on the man's face that he was going to ask her to dance the next with him, also.

"Excuse me, but I was wondering if I might have the Princess's hand for the next dance, if it pleases her majesty," Bail Antilles said politely. The man from Birren nodded curtly and Bail stepped into his place.

"What a delightful surprise," she smiled.

"My pleasure," he returned. He swept them skillfully around the floor to the familiar strains of music and Breha wanted nothing more than to remain in his arms for the rest of the night. Her shoes were beginning to pinch, however, and the floor was getting very crowded.

"I think I'd like some champagne and a breath of air, if you don't mind," Breha requested when the piece finished. Bail offered his arm and they each took a flute of champagne from the tray of a passing droid before moving out to the glassed-in room that served as a balcony.

Breha took a sip of champagne, scrunching her nose up at the fizzy feeling against the roof of her mouth.

"I don't know how people can call Chandrilan champagne the best in the galaxy. There are so many bubbles that you can barely taste it."

Bail chuckled good-naturedly.

"Everything from Chandrila is bubbly. Their new senator—her name is Mon Mothma—the way she gets things done, you'd think these bubbles flowed through her bloodstream…It makes my head spin just to hear her order kaf in the morning."

Breha smiled.

"I believe I met her earlier this morning…She did seem very… _driven_ ," Breha stated diplomatically.

"That's a polite way of putting it," Bail agreed amicably. They glimpsed Celly and the man dancing slowly on the perimeter of the dancefloor, lost in each other. "He's married," Bail muttered.

"Oh—well…"

"She knows and says she doesn't care."

"How did they meet?"

"Celly's here for university. I'm not entirely sure how they met, but they did…Luckily, she's decided to return to Alderaan after her graduation at the end of this semester."

"Oh, do pass on my congratulations and my sincerest welcome home," the princess requested. Bail chuckled. Breha was surprised to see that her hand had migrated up to its earlier position in the crook of his arm, and her thumb was once again dragging up and down that seam.

"I shall see she gets the message," Bail promised with a smile. They turned out toward the city lights for a moment, watching the traffic fly by at break-neck speeds. The lights on the building across from them were red neon, and Breha tried to make out the name of the establishment through the smog.

"Rouge! I've been wracking my brain all night to think of your other sister's name," Breha burst out suddenly. Bail laughed.

"Yes, yes. There's Rouge and then me, and then Celly, and we have a younger sister, also. Her name is Tia, and she's fifteen. I don't know if you'll remember her or not."

"Vaguely, yes. Thank you. I still can't believe something so…obvious slipped past me. Celly and I were so close for so long…tell me, what is she studying in college? She was always so passionate about art."

"She's a painter. She's quite good, actually. She's applied to be in the Painter's Collective on Alderaan."

"I always told her she'd be the one to paint my coronation portrait." Breha smiled, happy to see that her dear friend had followed her true calling.

"She's been practicing kyber crystals," Bail informed her, referencing the crown jewels that Breha would wear when it came time to officially take on her mother's role.

"I'm glad. I fear her services will be required sooner rather than later…" Just as the words crossed Breha's lips, Carlist hurried up.

"Your Highness, I've just received word from Alderaan," he stated in a low, quiet voice.

"Yes?"

"Princess, it's your mother. She's dying."

 _AN:Please leave a review!  
_

 _Next week, we have a...well...I think it's pretty predictable._


	4. Solemn

_AN: I've decided to post two chapters a week from here on in instead of one! Updates coming regularly every Wednesday and Sunday until the end!_

Breha landed on Alderaan in the wee hours of the morning. Still in her gown from the banquet, she went straight from the landing bay up to her mother's bedside. The queen was not coherent when Breha arrived. The Queen of Alderaan passed into the Force as the first rays of light breached the mountains and shined into the bedchamber. The bells in the sacred temples all over the planet rang somberly that morning in remembrance.

Breha spent the rest of the day and the following night in bed, sleeping when she could and thinking when she couldn't.

She stared at the ceiling, replaying her last conversation with her mother. She'd gone to Brindel's bedside before her surgery, before departing for Coruscant. Brindel hadn't been in a very good mood, and Breha had been anxious to take to the skies, so their conversation had been brief. Breha had reminded her mother to take her medication, and not to hassle the doctor. Brindel had reminded her daughter not to drink at the ball, despite the fact that Alderaanian spirits were far more potent than anything that would be served at the party and Breha was capable of enjoying a few glasses of champagne without much effect.

Breha knew her mother hadn't meant to be so callous, but it had rubbed her the wrong way, and she'd left quickly. She'd said 'I love you,' but she said it all the time, especially right before a surgery. It was just something that fell out of her mouth, like saying 'Bless you' when someone sneezed, or 'Good morning' when someone entered a room. That was almost worse, wasn't it?

Brindel hadn't said it back, either. Some of her medication gave her terrible sores in her mouth, and so she didn't say much. Still, couldn't she have swallowed the pain to say it one last time?

Breha immediately scolded herself for such a thought. She didn't want to pollute her final memories of her mother with resentment and bitterness.

The first touches of light filtered in through the curtains, giving a golden glow to the large painted portrait of Brindel hanging on the wall opposite Breha's bed.

The young queen looked out evenly over the room, gentle and serene. Breha couldn't return the gaze. Staring at the portrait gave life to her guilt and regret. She pulled the sheet off her bed, tugged the stool from her dressing table under the portrait, and hung the sheet over the frame, hiding her young mother's face from view.

The princess managed to get a few hours of fitful sleep before Mirnora came to wake her for the funeral.

00

Breha stood in the antechamber of the hangar, waiting for her father to appear. She was dressed in a flowing gown of black, a dark, heavy cape over her shoulders, her hair wrapped simply around her head.

The princess's eyes fell to the group of large portraits hanging on the wall opposite the stairs. They were the portraits painted every five years for the anniversary of the queen's reign. Breha had been seven when the first one was painted for Brindel's five-year anniversary. She was seated on her father's lap, his arm protectively around her.

Breha remembered the second one. It had been painted in the very, very beginning of her mother's illness, and the artist hadn't had to work very hard to hide the signs of sickness on the queen's face. It hadn't been much longer after that portrait that they'd realized just how sick she was.

The fifteenth anniversary portrait hung the closest to Breha now. It wasn't that old, only a few years. Her parents smiled gently at her, her mother looking young and healthy and beautiful. She'd been quite sick by that point, years of illness taking its toll on her physical features. This artist had had to work much harder to give the queen a youthful glow.

Breha looked at the painted likeness of herself. She was younger in that painting, physically by a few years and mentally by more than a decade. Tears sprang up behind her eyes and she tried her best to keep them from falling. Footsteps sounded on the stairs behind her and the princess struggled to control her breathing.

"Your Highness, my deepest sympathies." She recognized the soothing baritone of Senator Antilles. Breha turned toward him. He extended a small bundle of Chinensis roses to her. "I hope, someday, that I can offer you a bouquet for a happier occasion," he wished.

"Thank you, Senator. My father will be down shortly and we will go…" Breha stiffened as a sob rose from her chest. Senator Antilles pressed a handkerchief into her hand and she brought it to her eyes, dabbing it carefully under her lashes to keep her makeup from running.

"Keep it."

"Thank you, Senator."

Saul Organa came slowly down the stairs, dressed in the same dark cape he was wearing in all of the painting, a blank expression on his face. He gave Breha fatherly hug and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.

"Good morning, sir," Bail greeted solemnly, bowing his head in reverence.

"Hello, Senator. Let's be on our way, shall we?"

00

The state funeral was about what Celly Antilles had expected. There were a lot of people sitting solemnly, wearing dark clothing and speaking in hushed tones. Her sisters were beside her, Rouge somehow sitting perfectly still, staring straight ahead, and still managing to shoot daggers at squirmy Tia. Rouge was taking her duties as the eldest very seriously; none of her younger siblings were going to be allowed to appear sloppy in public. She had forced Bail to stand in the kitchen of their apartment in his underwear while she ironed the creases out of his pants, and she'd yanked a brush through Celly's curly hair, trying to comb it into some semblance of order.

There was a processional with the Regional Ministers, her brother, and the royal family, ending with the casket being carried in and placed at the front of the holy temple. The priest read a few passages from the sacred text, the senior Regional Minister gave a few remarks, and a prayer. The service finished with music. A quartet came to the stage, carrying bows and stringed instruments of varying sizes. They played a quiet piece while the Viceroy, the Princess, and the rest of the royal family came forward to pay their final respects. After they'd returned to their seats, the Prima Dona of the Aldera Opera came out in a dark gown and joined the quartet to sing the monarchial anthem to Queen Brindel for the final time.

After the recessional, there was a reception, and Bail joined his sisters. The air in the palace ball room was grave, and conversation was quiet. There were some people sitting next to Rouge, and she was making polite conversation. Tia was checking her comm under the table and Bail was beside Celly, trying to hide his glances over at the princess.

"You know, you could go talk to her," Celly leaned over and whispered to her brother.

"But she's bu—I'm afraid I don't know who you're talking about," Bail covered quickly.

"Only the woman you've been staring at for the past _year_ ," Celly hissed.

"Shut up and don't tell Rouge," Bail demanded.

"Don't tell Rouge what?" Tia leaned over.

"Bail has a crush on the princess," Celly informed her little sister. Tia gasped.

"Really? The _princess-_ princess?" Tia asked.

"Will you keep your voices down?" Bail requested, glancing down at Rouge.

"That's the cutest thing _ever_!" Tia squealed. Rouge looked down the table at her huddled younger siblings.

"Will you try to quiet your _laughter_? This is a funeral!" Rouge reprimanded through clenched teeth.

"Yes, girls, keep it together," Bail stated, standing and walking off. Tia slid into his vacated seat and they watched him socialize.

"I give him five minutes," Tia bet.

"I give him three," Celly returned. He greeted a few people, took a small plate and a glass of water from the refreshment table, and began circulating the room again. It only took a few moments for him to be beside the princess.

"How long?" Tia checked her chrono.

"2 minutes and 58 seconds. Kriff," she swore.

"Tia," Rouge reprimanded.

"Bail's in love with the princess," Tia tattled. Rouge glanced to Celly for confirmation. Celly just nodded in the direction of their brother. It was a very tender scene.

Bail had apparently convinced Princess Breha to take a momentary break from the receiving line. They were speaking quietly to each other and Breha was eating something off the plate of refreshments Bail had collected a moment earlier. Celly mentally congratulated her brother; that was probably the only thing she'd eat all day.

A small smile crossed Breha's features and Bail put his free hand on her arm. The pair looked over where the Viceroy was greeting people on his own. Breha returned to her father's side, and as she passed, Bail's hand slipped from her arm to the small of her back briefly.

"Damn. You're right."

00

Saul and Breha had a quiet dinner in the informal dining room that evening. Breha had already changed into her robe and let her hair down, and Saul had removed his uniform, also. They sat on the same side of the table near the center, rather than on the end, trying to forget the thousands of nights when they'd sat around the end of the table as a family.

Breha found that she wasn't hungry, even though she hadn't eaten anything other than a few pieces of cheese from the plate Bail had put in front of her at the reception. Her hand rested on the table beside Saul's, and he covered it with his weathered palm.

"Little Girl," he called, nudging her foot with his. "Little Girl…" He squeezed her hand and she looked up at him. His eyes were tired, but clear of their normal confusion and distractedness. "We'll be alright, Little Girl," he promised, giving her a sad smile. Breha felt tears on her cheeks.

"I know, Papa."

"I always turned to your momma for help when it got tough." Breha's heart ached even more for her father. He'd lost his confidant, his rock, his best friend.

"I know, Papa."

"She always knew what I needed…someone to talk to, someone to listen to…she knew when I needed sleep, or something to eat, rest…" Breha looked into her father's eyes. For once, they were clear, focused, the way she remembered. "You have someone like that, too, Little Girl. The senator."

"Papa, I—"

"Little Girl, I saw the way he supported you today. There's nothing in his contract of duty about walking beside the crown princess during the funeral march, making sure she eats during the reception, doesn't stay on her feet for hours at a time…" Saul teased, tickling her cheek. "Bringing your favorite flowers just to see you smile a little," he added, gesturing to the bouquet that Mirnora had taken and arranged in a vase for the table. Breha smiled in spite of herself.

"Papa, I don't have time for that right now," she returned. "I'm going to be the queen soon."

"Well, isn't it lucky that we have a future Viceroy on hand, then? Being queen's not easy, Little Girl. I like him. He'll be a good man to have around," he insisted, tweaking her nose.

"Do you think so, Papa?" Breha looked into Saul's eyes. The clarity that had been there only moments ago was now gone, in its stead a look of confusion and distance that was becoming far too familiar.

"Of course, Little Girl. Now, if you see any loth-cats in the upper hall, be sure and tell the caretaker."

"What?"

"Loth-cats, Little Girl. They've been bad this season, worst I've seen yet," he explained dazedly, standing from the table and wandering toward the door. "Just shredding the carpet to bits," he mumbled. Saul limped from the dining room, his nurse coming quickly to his side.

"Rendi, please tell the chef that the meal was excellent, and thank her for preparing the food for the reception this afternoon," Breha requested of the servant who was no doubt waiting just beyond the door.

"Yes, Your Majesty," he replied.

Breha's head fell to her hands for a few moments before she looked up at the chrono on the wall. It was late, but she could probably still get some work done before she let the exhaustion take over.

00

Bail found the files on his desk, just where he'd left them. He glanced around the office for anything else he might need before he returned next month from Coruscant. Satisfied that he hadn't left something important behind, Bail put the electronic lock on the door and started back for his sisters' apartment. He rounded a corner and nearly crashed into the princess.

"Pardon me. I wasn't watching where I was going," she apologized in a tiny voice.

"No, no, Your Highness. It was my fault."

"I have a few things for you to look over, if you would. I was going to send them to you in the morning, but if you don't have anything pressing…." She trailed off, regaining her composure.

"No, no. I was just returning home." The princess gave a gentle smile and keyed herself into the queen's office. She directed Bail to a chair facing the desk and took her place in the ornately carved chair behind it.

"What is that minty smell?" Breha asked after a moment of stirring around in her desk.

"It's a wintergreen mint. I'm rather fond of them," Bail explained, pointing to his mouth and holding up a wrapped candy.

"My mother loved those. She always got them from the same place. The wintergreen was grown in the mountains in Aldera. She said you could taste the crispness of the mountain air in them. There was a tin in her drawer…" Breha rolled her chair backward and pulled out a drawer. She reached inside and extracted a tin filled partway with the same pink mints Bail had just pulled out of his pocket.

Breha put her hand over her mouth as she began crying.

"I'm sorry, Senator," she apologized through her tears.

"No need to apologize, Your Highness." She quickly composed herself, only to fall apart even more a moment later. He reached across the desk and took her hand. She grasped his hand and held on like she was a boat in a stormy harbor and his hand was the only thing keeping her from floating away from the dock.

"I must apologize again for my complete breach of propriety. I'm afraid my days as queen aren't getting off to a fruitful start," she explained, dabbing at her eyes.

"I suppose that means it can only get better from here," he offered optimistically. Breha smiled.

"I suppose you're right." Breha leafed through the documents on the desk and found the ones she was looking for. They spent a few minutes looking them over.

"Thank you, Senator, for being here today. I appreciate it, and I know my father did too. Or, he would have…" the princess offered as they walked slowly to the door.

"Of course, Your Majesty," he assured, taking her hand lightly. Breha looked up into his gaze, almost drowning in the rush of affection that flowed from the dark depths of his eyes. She squeezed his hand tightly.

"I wish you a safe journey back to Coruscant."

"Thank you. I'm sure we'll be in touch in a few days, once I've gotten a handle on anything that happened in my absence," Bail promised.

"I look forward to it."

"Good evening, Breha."

"Clear skies, Bail."

 _AN: If you read, please leave a review so I know if you're enjoying this! On Sunday: Breha works to move past her grief while the planet prepares for a new monarch!_


	5. The Groundquake

After the death of an Alderaanian head of state, there was always a two-month mourning period. During this time, things moved slowly in the planetary government: meetings were reduced in frequency, the ruling monarch's public appearances were decreased to almost none, and no celebrations were planned, including the coronation.

Breha appreciated her lightened schedule, as it allowed her more time to sleep—something she was doing a lot of these days. But, with more off her plate, and she was left with an inordinate amount of time to do nothing but think.

She'd always harbored fears about becoming the queen, and as the days ticked by, she grew ever closer to her imminent coronation.

Bail had picked up on her discomfort almost right away, and he'd spent several nights listening patiently while she went back and forth with herself over ascending and abdicating. He encouraged her to speak to her father about her fears, and finally, Breha found the confidence to broach the subject on one of Saul's good days.

"Papa, do you think I'm ready to be the queen?"

"Of course, Little Girl," he answered.

"Are you sure? What if…I'm not…I can't be the queen yet, Papa? What if I'm not ready?"

"Why wouldn't you be?" Saul asked, setting aside his bowl of grava berries and focusing his attention on Breha.

"I'm too young to be the queen. I don't have any experience, and I don't have Momma here to help me. I'm only 23. I can't be the queen yet."

"When Brindel was your age, we were married and almost expecting you. That wasn't too young, was it?"

"I'm not ready for _any_ of that, Papa! When Momma took the throne, she was so much older, and she had you and she had Grandmother…I just have…I don't know."

"Well, you have me," he winked, "and you have Senator Antilles. And you learned from your mother, Breha. I know you did. I see her in everything you do."

"Momma made everything look so _simple!_ Everyone loved her, and now I am trying to fill her shoes and it's impossible. She was always so brave, and I'm scared. All the time, I'm scared that I'm going to choose one thing and it will be wrong, or people will see it as wrong—"

"Little Girl, let me tell you something. Brindel was afraid, too. I remember night after night after night, sitting up with her before her coronation. She was 28 then, and we'd been married five years and had a little princess, and her mother was on hand every day. And she was scared, too." Breha looked skeptically at her father.

"Papa, this isn't helping."

"Let an old man finish his thought," he scolded teasingly, covering her hand with his. "She was worried that people wouldn't like her because she had a young child and wouldn't be able to devote her entire being to ruling the planet. She was worried that people would accuse her of letting her mother and I influence her decisions. She was terrified that people wouldn't take her seriously if she took over while her mother was still alive and in good health.

"She wasn't wrong, Little Girl. People did accuse her of those things, and all sorts of other things, too. That's what being in politics is about sometimes. There will always be people who try to fight you, Breha. You can count on that. Just don't let yourself be one of them." He put his hand against her cheek and gave her a meaningful look.

Their moment was broken when Mirnora ran into the dining room.

"Your Majesty, there's been a severe groundquake in the Highland region in the last hour. Eight reported deaths so far, and the missing toll is in the thousands." Breha's stomach dropped. "We need your signature to dispatch the ADRA."

The Alderaanian Disaster Relief Aid was technically a branch of the military. It was the only branch that had seen action in more than a generation and was generally called out in the event of a natural disaster. They were specially trained in engineering, peacekeeping, and medical tasks so there could be an efficient and trained government response to such disasters. They were technically part of the military, though, and under Breha's supervision now. It would take an executive order.

"Yes, yes, of course," she agreed, taking the document from the young woman.

"Will you please get a hold of my shuttle team and tell them we will be leaving for the Highlands as soon as they can be ready?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Mirnora returned.

"You're going out there?" Saul asked.

"It's expected of the queen to be there for her people. Of course I'm going," Breha answered, sweeping quickly from the dining room toward the residence.

"Rendi, did I just hear my daughter refer to herself as the queen?" Saul asked the man standing beside the kitchen door.

"Yes, Your Highness, I believe so," the waiter replied. "Sounds like you convinced her, sir."

00

Breha had forgone her typical long, heavy gowns, intricate hair styles, and sheer veils in favor of a simple dress made of durable material. She had her hair braided and wrapped in a loose crown around her head.

She stepped off the shuttle, smiling gently at the ADRA officers waiting to receive her.

"Your Highness, it's an honor to have you here with us in the field. I'm Dina. I'm the leader of the ADRA in this region, and I'm in charge of operations in this shelter." The woman was probably in her fifties, with graying hair and wind-blown features. She was wearing the red and brown utilitarian uniform with a black apron over the top.

"I'm glad to be here. What can I do to help?" Breha asked, taking a black apron from a pile on a folding table.

Dina set Breha up at a first aid station, seeing to minor scrapes and cuts so that the medical personnel were free to see to the bigger injuries. Most of the people being brought into the shelter were children from a school that had collapsed in the quake.

She conversed quietly with each of them while she worked to keep them calm. They were all so brave for her, biting back tears when she applied bacta or when she sent them on to the trained staff for an injury out of her capabilities. Several confessed that they were scared, that they feared aftershocks or that they didn't know where their parents or siblings were. Her heart ached each time a child asked if everything was going to be alright.

One Little Girl especially got to Breha. She was missing her front two teeth and couldn't have been more than seven years old. There was a nasty cut on her leg that, luckily, wasn't deep, and a similar one on her face. The child refused to speak while Breha applied the bacta and bandages, saying only that her name was Mergen before clamping her mouth shut firmly and avoiding eye contact whenever possible.

Mergen's hair was falling out of its long braid, so Breha carefully unbound it, combed it with her fingers, and rebraided it, fastening the end with a thin green ribbon. The Little Girl afforded Breha a small smile after inspecting the bow. Breha returned the smile, and Mergen gave her a brief hug before hurrying into the group of children at the other side of the room.

Breha loved taking care of the children. They were all so innocent and sweet, looking up at her with pure eyes full of wonder and life. They asked a hundred questions, curious to know more about groundquakes and mountains and shelters and first-aid. But most of all, she loved how open and warm they were with her and with each other.

Breha longed for a palace full of her own little ones, but that was not to be. She'd discovered, as a teenager, that she'd never be able to carry a child of her own, even with modern advances in medicine. The hard truth of the matter had grown easier to accept over time, but it still keenly stung in moments like these. Bail suddenly came to her mind, and Breha wondered if this information would have any impact on the way he might feel about her.

She shook her head to clear the thought away. Her relationship with Senator Antilles was purely professional, and besides that, thinking about Bail was rather distracting, and keeping track of the children was her first priority at the moment.

As the day progressed, adults started to show up at the shelter to find their children. Breha thanked the stars every time a parent would collapse to the floor, arms tightly around their spared child. Mergen, however, remained in the diminishing group of little ones huddled at the end of the shelter.

Breha helped prepare the evening meal for the people who were left. The number was, thankfully, much smaller than the number that they started out with, but the chances of someone coming for the remaining children dwindled with each passing hour.

There were only 20 children left at the shelter when the sun finally sank from view. They prepared pallets for the children on the floor, and many of them were able to fall asleep quickly from sheer exhaustion. Breha was unsurprised when Mergen did not lay down, choosing instead to sit on her pallet with her knees drawn into her chest.

Breha called quietly to child and beckoned her over.

"Would you like to sit with me for a little while?"

"Yes, please," Mergen whimpered. Breha pulled the little child up into her lap. Mergen sat still, not relaxing at all. She looked up into Breha's eyes, as if trying to read her thoughts. "Is my momma coming back?"

"I hope so, child. I certainly hope so. We mustn't lose faith."

Mergen looked out the window at the sky for a moment.

"Do you wanna know about my momma?"

"Yes, Mergen. I would like to know about her. What does she look like?"

"She's short, but she's really strong, too. She has black hair like mine, and Papa says that I have her eyes. Is that good?" Breha looked into the kaf-colored orbs staring up at her.

"Yes."

"Momma is so pretty. Like you." The princess smiled.

"Thank you."

"Momma is the one that takes care of me, all by herself. Sometimes, Granny and Papa come, but usually it is just me and Momma. Do you have a Momma that takes care of you?" asked Mergen. She'd finally started to relax and was now fingering the seam over Breha's shoulder in that absent-minded way children had.

"I did, but she's gone now."

"Like mine?"

"I'm afraid my mother is gone for good. Hopefully, your mother will be here by the morning."

"What was yours like? Did she take good care of you?" Breha was surprised to find that it didn't hurt to speak about Brindel in this context, as it did in so many others.

"Yes, she did. She always made sure I ate all my food, and she tucked me in bed every night."

"Mine does that, too. It's good, huh? My momma doesn't just take care of me, though. She has a job, too. She works for the herders bringing the hay for their animals. That's 'cause she's so strong," Mergen explained, flexing one of her arms to show off her muscles.

"I imagine. There are lots of animals in these hills. It probably takes quite a bit of hay to keep them happy," Breha added. Mergen giggled.

"Yeah. When she comes home, she always smells so good from the hay. It's my favorite in the whole galaxy. I bet I get to do the same thing when I grow up. What does your momma do?" Mergen inquired.

"My mother was the queen."

"Oh. I bet that's a fun job. Are you gonna do that?"

"I don't know," Breha answered honestly.

"You should be the queen. You would probably be a good one, I bet. Just like I will be a good hay-bringer, 'cause I had my momma to show me how. It's almost like it's in my blood, right? You will be good at being a queen because it's in your blood."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Mergen rambled for a few more minutes, Breha chiming in here and there. The child was soon asleep against her chest. Her small arms were around Breha's shoulders, and the warm skin of her forehead was pressed against Breha's neck.

"The girl is right, Your Highness. We are all looking forward to the day you officially become our queen; you'll be magnificent," murmured Dina. She was seated a few feet away, typing out reports.

"You seem so certain."

"Like she said, it's in your blood. You came here because you know it's your duty, but I watched you work today, Your Highness. You weren't here only out of duty. You were here because you love the people of Alderaan. You didn't have to come; you could have said it was part of the old order and not worth your time. But you came, and you loved. I see in you the same heart that beat in Queen Brindel: a heart that beats first for Alderaan and second for yourself," Dina explained.

"Thank you, Dina," Breha murmured.

She certainly had a lot to mull over: her father's assurances, Bail's…

A woman entered the shelter and glanced around quickly. Breha immediately recognized her eyes as a hardened, worried version of the eyes she'd been looking into earlier. The princess nudged the sleeping girl on her lap, and the child stirred just as the woman caught sight of her.

"Mergen, Mergen, oh, my baby!" she cried, running through the quiet room. The child dashed across the room into the arms of the woman.

"Momma! Momma!" the child repeated as her mother wept. Breha smiled at the ADRA workers.

"They're not all unhappy endings out here, Your Majesty," Dina said.

"For her sake, I'm glad."

00

That shelter in the Highlands was only needed for two more days, a blessing for which Breha thanked the Force. She helped repack all the medical supplies and load them onto the transport in the afternoon of that final day.

She was truly glad that she'd made the decision to come. Meeting Dina, the other members of the ADRA, and all the refugees…it had been good for her. There was such a great need on this part of the planet and surely several others just like it. As the monarch, she would be able to help these people. She was called to be the queen.

Breha hadn't realized how much education had suffered during the last recession and how little it had been built back up again after the economy returned to a stable state. Dina told stories about crowded schools that were understaffed and crumbling around the students. Some of the children told her they'd been forced to finish school very early because they'd reached the end of what their teachers could teach them.

A plan began to form in her mind.

00

"There's a face I've missed," Bail greeted warmly. Breha smiled in spite of herself. "How are things in the Highlands?"

"Not wonderful, I'm afraid. The death toll is nearly 200, and the loss of property…it's staggering. Not a wound that will heal quickly."

"Are you glad you went?"

"Yes. I have a much clearer perspective on so many things…"

"Such as…" he invited, settling back in his chair.

"I think I've found my first initiative. Education. Areas in the Highlands haven't had decent funding in years. There is a severe shortage of teachers, and the ones that are there don't have nearly the amount of training that they should. The materials are outdated, the buildings are falling apart… It's hard to say how many other schools in the other regions are in the same state—or worse."

"I take it, then, that you've made a decision about your future?"

"I've decided to take the throne. I had a lot of time to think about that, too. I'm not going to abdicate," she said bravely. It felt good to say the words out loud.

"I never thought you would," Bail admitted. "Now, tell me more about your plan to educate the planet."

 _AN:Please read and review!_

 _Wednesday: Breha prepares to take the throne...but there are stormy skies on the political horizon!_


	6. Heart of Kyber

_AN: Here we go...things are starting to get interesting now!_

The Galactic Senate was in recess, so Bail was on Alderaan for nearly two weeks. He'd scheduled a mid-morning meeting with her on the veranda and had conveniently "forgotten" his datapad but happened to have hot kaf and two cups handy.

They'd barely started their conversation when Mirnora burst onto the veranda.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but there's something you need to see. Both of you," she stated, looking at Senator Antilles.

Breha shot a worried glance at Bail and they hastened after Mirnora into the palace. Several members of the senior staff were gathered around a screen showing the paused recording of a news cast. Someone hit the play button as soon as Breha and Bail arrived. Breha immediately recognized the senior Regional Minister, Abreth Fairfort, standing before some members of the press.

"A plea has been brought before the Regional Ministers. Princess Breha's claim to the throne has been challenged. Certain parties have brought evidence that she may not be fit to rule this planet. A Provisional Council has been convened to conduct a series of hearings regarding Princess Organa's suitability. Should the Provisional Council find her unworthy, she will be forced to forfeit the throne. Due to the lack of a suitable heir in the royal house, the Crown will be removed from House Organa, and power will be passed to House Ranley for a period of no less than one half-century."

Breha's chest tightened, and she was so stunned that she couldn't speak.

"This—this is ridiculous!" Bail exclaimed. "They can't really do that, can they?"

"We're still looking into a few technicalities, but everything holds up so far," replied Trevic, her legal counsel.

No one had stopped the recording, so it replayed itself. While the senior staff debated around her, all she could do was watch the clip, watch a man she'd considered an ally call her _unworthy_ , _unsuitable_.

Breha's hand shot out for something to stabilize herself, and she caught Bail's wrist. He immediately turned his full attention to her, his hand turning over beneath hers to clasp her fingers properly. His eyes quickly scanned her face, probably trying to decide if he needed to help her to a chair before she passed out.

"I'm alright," she mouthed, taking a step closer to him while she regained her balance.

"We'll straighten this out, Breha. I promise," he vowed, holding eye-contact as she got close. The office suddenly got awkwardly silent as everyone looked away from whatever was going on between the monarch and the senator. Breha unhappily took her hand from his and folded her hands at her navel, assuming the neutral posture Brindel had drilled into her.

"I don't want anyone to panic. There is a good chance this is merely a…formality because of the unusual circumstances. It's been some time since our planet has had a leader as young as myself, and the fact that I have no heir…We will see this through, just as we have all the other challenges that have fallen into our laps."

"The press is going to want a statement," someone piped up.

"Simply tell them that we are waiting for more information about the Council before we make any decisions, but at the moment, we intend to cooperate fully with their requests. Beyond that, I'd like nothing said," Breha requested, a hint of sharp warning behind her voice. The staff dispersed, and Breha pushed open the door to her office. Bail followed, as she expected he would.

"You handled that very well," Bail complimented. "With grace and maturity. Your mother would be proud."

"Please, let's not speak of my mother. It's times like these that I'd value her input and…well, that's not possible. Besides, it's her fault this is happening; if she had—pardon me, Senator. That was completely uncalled for. I…I haven't worked through everything yet, regarding her…passing, and under extreme duress, I am afraid some of those unresolved feelings can escape," Breha admitted.

"No apologies necessary, Princess. This isn't something from which you can just pick up and move on," Bail comforted, reaching across her desk and covering her hand with his for a moment.

"This is probably just a formality," she repeated, more for her own benefit than his.

"True. But it wouldn't hurt to be prepared in case it isn't," he suggested.

"Will you be available this afternoon? There will be a senior staff meeting, and I'd very much appreciate it if you were in attendance."

"Of course, Your Majesty. I am at your service."

Breha smiled across her desk at him.

"Thank you."

"My pleasure."

00

Simedon Lanard had been the political advisor to the Crown of Alderaan for longer than Breha had been alive. He was now a wizened old man, bald and bespectacled, and very, very shrewd. Upon more than one occasion, Breha had given thanks that he was on her side rather than that of the opposition. It was this wise man who now sat across from her at the conference table, eyes quickly scanning legal documents, centuries old, with a practiced eye.

Her legal counsel, a younger man by the name of Trevic Organa, was beside Simedon, going through the papers that had been sent over by the Regional Administration office shortly after the press conference. Down the long table, a veritable army of senior staffers typed busily or read quickly, occasionally passing datapads back and forth and having murmured conversations.

Saul Organa was at the head of the table with his nurse. It wasn't one of his better days, unfortunately, but he seemed to realize that something bad was happening, and he'd pulled Breha into a hug and whispered in her ear that things would work out in the end, whatever _things_ were. He was very calm right now, staring at a point on the wall opposite him like the rest of the room didn't matter, or even exist.

Mirnora was on Breha's left, waiting to help in any way she could after Simedon and Trevic finished their quick reading.

Breha was waiting for the team to tell her their findings, if the Reginal Ministers had acted within their power, what needed to be done to prepare for the hearings and the formation of the council. The waiting was killing her, as was the feeling of complete and utter uselessness. She caught Carlist's eye where he stood vigilantly on the opposite side of the room. He offered the shadow of a reassuring smile and then gave a small nod to the door.

Breha shifted her eyes to the door, and instantly, she felt a fraction of the tension in her shoulders relax. Bail slipped into the place on her right, giving her hand a quick squeeze under the table.

Simedon looked up from his papers and pushed his glasses down his long nose to look at Breha over the rim.

"It appears, Your Majesty, that the Ministers have acted within the confines of the law. They've cited several facts which could give them pause in accepting you as the monarch, all of which are _also_ in concordance with the law. This is something we'll have to take very seriously."

Trevic spoke up from beside Simedon.

"I'm happy to tell you that their main concern is the issue of an heir, and we've been ready for that for quite some time, now."

"They're concerned that you're 25, unattached, and have no heir?" Bail asked, confused. Breha looked down the table at the senior staffers. They all knew, in some vague way or another, about Breha's medical condition. The only person in the room who didn't was Bail. She quickly fumbled for words.

"I have a genetic disorder that will likely prevent ever having a natural heir. There's no cure. I found out when I was 14," Breha replied.

"When the diagnosis was made, Queen Brindel immediately asked us to figure out if it would possibly stand in the way of Princess Breha becoming queen. Luckily, a law from 200 standard years prior was unearthed, ensuring the legality of adoption in the royal bloodline," Simedon explained.

"We've held it close to the chest, along with the Princess' diagnosis. Unfortunately, it seems someone saw fit to betray our confidence," Trevic answered.

"We don't have the time to discuss that now," Simedon scolded.

"I want to know more about this Council," Breha requested. "How long is it going to take? What are they going to do to prove my worthlessness?"

"It will be comprised of seven members. There are certain members of the government who are required to fill the position; it's all spelled out here. Who has the list?" Trevic asked, looking down the table. It was quickly produced and someone read it aloud. Breha recognized the names as people who all held high elected offices in the government.

"They'll meet in closed session for three days for private study and discussion. They'll subpoena whoever they think can give an accurate representation of you, and there will be a few days of open hearings. They have 24 hours after the last hearing to make their decision," Simedon explained.

"That's it?" Breha exclaimed. "A few days of hearings and then they just…decide? And if they don't want me, then the matriarch of House Ranley…takes over the planet?"

"It's a bit more complicated than that, but that is the idea, Your Majesty," Trevic replied.

"Do I at least get to speak for myself?"

"No. No member of either House can be subpoenaed."

Breha heard Bail mumble a curse. She felt like repeating it—and several others—at the top of her lungs right now.

"It is specified in this construct that the first meeting of the Council be held a month after it is called. This should be over with by the end of the season," Simedon offered.

"And what are we supposed to do between now and then? Are any of my powers or functions limited? Am I still held to my responsibilities?"

"You are still, as far as the law is concerned, the monarch. It wouldn't look good to the council if you became lax in your work now, Your Highness. I recommend you forage ahead with your education initiative, and continue to conduct business as normal," Trevic explained.

"It's very important that you appear unshaken by this, Your Majesty," Simedon recommended. "Their arguments against you don't hold much water, and they know that. It seems to be a power play aimed at showing you who's boss, and I recommend that you do not let them get the upper hand."

"I understand."

"Very well, Your Majesty. I think we can adjourn for the day."

"Thank you, everyone." The noise level in the room rose sharply as the senior staff began gathering their belongings and leaving. Breha glanced at the chrono on the wall: much later than she'd anticipated. She dismissed Mirnora for the evening and went to speak with her father. He'd given no indication that he understood much of what went on during the meeting, but he reached out a hand to her when she drew nigh.

"Don't worry, Little Girl. Brindel will be home soon, and she can help us figure this out," Saul murmured dazedly. Breha bit back tears.

"I don't think so, Papa, but I suppose we can hope. You get some rest," she directed, kissing his cheek. Saul's nurse took him by the arm and started their slow shuffle back to the residence.

00

Bail lagged behind the senior staff, taking as much time as possible to gather his things.

He'd heard the Princess dismiss Mirnora for the night, and now she was saying goodnight to her father. The Viceroy whispered something to her, and Bail saw her shoulders fall in defeat. She leaned over to kiss his cheek, and then the Viceroy's nurse took him by the elbow and led him toward the door.

Bail turned to Breha, who looked like she was ready to collapse in a heap. She dabbed at her red-rimmed eyes with a handkerchief—his handkerchief, he realized, from the Queen's funeral. Something in his chest fluttered at the realization that she'd kept it and still carried it with her.

He opened his arms, and she came to him willingly.

"I'll be waiting outside, Your Majesty," Carlist said as the door slid shut behind him and left the pair in silence. Bail's arms closed around her and he felt her shaking slightly with stress.

"Breha, I…I don't know what to say. Not a damn word about… _any_ of this. Tell me how to help you," he begged quietly.

"You _are_ helping," she insisted, tightening her arms around his chest. Bail rubbed her shoulders with his thumbs, trying to ease some of the tension in her body.

A few long minutes later, she pulled away from him. Her necklace had gotten wound around his top collar button and Bail fumbled between them to untangle it.

"Kyber crystal?" he asked as the chain finally fell free of his button.

"Yes," Breha confirmed, tucking the gem back beneath the neckline of her gown.

"They say that the strongest stars have hearts of kyber."

"I've heard that," Breha replied, smiling a bit at the direction she realized he was taking.

"So do you, I'm sure," he complimented. "I've never known someone who could handle what you have for the past two months with such grace. You're truly a very strong woman."

"Thank you."

"My sisters and I were adopted. Did you know that?" Bail asked. His sudden change in topic startled her a bit.

"Celly told me about it when we were in school," Breha remembered. "She told me that you were all adopted from the Highlands after an earthquake."

"Yes. I'm…well, I've always liked the idea of adoption," he stated delicately, not breaking eye contact, hoping she understood his meaning. A warm smile grew over her lips, momentarily replacing the darkness that had been there since the morning. Breha stepped toward him and tentatively placed her hands on his shoulders, leaning toward him. Bail slipped a hand around her waist, drawing her closer—

The door slid open suddenly, and Carlist poked his head in.

"Begging Your Majesty's pardon, but the cleaning staff would like to begin in this room."

"Of course. I should get up to bed, and I'm sure Rouge is wondering what's happened to you," Breha mumbled, looking up at Bail. "Good night, and thank you for everything."

 _AN: Let me know what you think! Reviews make me happy!  
_

 _Sunday: Things start to heat up as the subpoenas come out. Relationships and loyalties are called into question as jobs and power are at stake!_


	7. A Step Back

_AN: Posting this a bit early because I have a busy day when I wake up! Thanks to everyone who reviewed on Wednesday-I haven't had a moment to respond yet, but I should early this week! Thanks especially to the guest reviewers, to whom I cannot respond. I love reading your comments and I really, really appreciate knowing you are reading and enjoying! Thanks for dropping me a line!_

 _Onward!_

"Is that everything, Minister?" Breha asked at the end of the meeting. She was struggling to keep her voice from sounding defeated. It was obvious that a few of the Regional Ministers were less than sure of what to think of her, and that there were a few who agreed with the Provisional Council that she might not be the best choice to take the throne. Still, for however short a time, _she_ was the ruling monarch, and that meant that she would preside over staff meetings and continue moving forward with her education agenda.

"Yes, Your Highness. I think we can adjourn." Breha nodded, murmured a dismissal, and everyone started gathering their things. Bail swept his belongings off the table and hurried off to his next meeting; his day was, no doubt, full of meetings, as he was only on planet for a short time. Breha followed him out. A thin piece of parchment fluttered to the ground in his wake, landing neatly at Breha's feet.

"Senator, you dropped…" The princess didn't bother hurrying after him, knowing this would give her the perfect excuse to see him later. She walked back to her office, fingering the parchment gently. It looked like very fine stationary, a fancy invitation or a personal letter of great importance. Breha set it on the corner of her desk so she wouldn't forget to return it later. She set about her work, looking over the pieces of correspondence she'd missed while in the meeting.

The afternoon breeze came gently in through the window, bringing with it the sweet smell of the spring flowers from the garden below. It rustled the light draperies and blew the piece of parchment into the center of Breha's desk, the carefully-folded edges falling open in front of her.

She didn't mean to read it—it was undoubtedly private and personal, after all—but when her eyes glanced across the page and caught the words, 'I love you,' she couldn't help it.

' _My Darling-_

 _It is with great trepidation and an anxious heart that I write this, but I find that I can be silent no longer. You must know by now how I feel—I am sure you know, My Darling, as I have not been good at hiding them—but what man who is in love with such a wonderful woman should wish to hide it? And there it is; I have said it: I love you'_

Breha could scarcely draw a breath. She was holding, in her hands, proof that she wasn't imagining things, hadn't been convincing herself there was something where there was nothing. He felt the same way about her.

But it wasn't complete. Perhaps it was a bit selfish of her, but she wanted to know _all_ of what he had to say. Perhaps he had a specific time in mind to give it to her. Just before he left, to avoid embarrassment if she didn't love him in return. As if. Right before the final legitimacy trial, to assure her that _someone_ still believed in her. It wouldn't be proper to keep the letter without his knowledge. She checked her schedule: he would be in her next meeting. Hopefully, he wouldn't have time to miss the piece of parchment before she could return it.

The next meeting was with the Executive Council. She was one of the first to enter the room, and she busied herself as the ministers arrived. Bail's place was just to her right. He came in already speaking with the finance minister, and they sat down, never ceasing their discussion. Breha slipped the parchment into his stack of datapads while no one was paying attention and called the meeting to order.

00

Bail breathed a sigh of relief when he finally found the piece of parchment after the meeting with the princess and the rest of the Executive Council. It had gotten shuffled into his datapads when he left his chambers that morning, and he'd been petrified all day that he would misplace it or that someone would discover it. He thought he'd lost it after one meeting, but when he finally had a moment to search again, it was mixed in with the rest of his belongings. The senator unfolded it and glanced over the words. A little stilted, perhaps, but he knew she'd appreciate the sentiment.

He folded it carefully and tucked it in the top drawer as Jules entered. The look on his advisor's face was not a pleasant one.

"The Provisional Council has subpoenaed you."

"I expected as much," Bail admitted. Jules nodded in agreement.

"What are you going to do? It's a big decision. I'm going to leave it up to you." Bail looked in wonderment at Jules. Wasn't the answer obvious?

"Jules, I have to stand up for her."

"Do you know what this could do to your career? There are a lot of powerful people on that board, and if you turn any one of them the wrong way, it could be a disaster."

"I would like to remind you, Jules, that I am elected by the people of Alderaan, not by the members of the Provisional Council. The people love Breha. _She_ is the queen Alderaan needs. I am duty-bound to do what is best for this planet Jules, and believe me when I say that Moira Ranley is not the ideal choice."

"Ok, ok. Say that this doesn't work, though. Say that the Council picks Moira and Breha is dethroned. You'll have made a lot of enemies in their camp. Even if you can still win reelection, they're going to make life awfully hard on you; you'll get the blame for everything. You'll be out of a job real quick after you've been handed the bag for a recession, the loss of a trade route, anything. You'll be the sworn enemy."

"At least my conscious will be upheld, knowing that I stood up for what is right. If it does happen that the Council sees fit to dethrone the princess and the Ranleys make my life a living hell, well, so be it. I'm not exactly dumb, Jules. I could go to Coruscant and work for any number of senators or other galactic officials. Maybe I could be a political consultant. _You_ certainly make it seem easy; all you do is sit around making stupid suggestions." It wouldn't be so bad, living on Coruscant full-time with her. With their jobs out of the way, he and Breha could live some semblance of a normal life together, unhindered by political responsibilities and public images.

"Bail, I'm just trying to look out for you. You're running into the fire here! I'm just trying to warn you that it's not going to be easy."

"And becoming the primary senator at 29 was like falling off a log. I'm not afraid of a challenge, Jules. You should know that by now." The two men sat in silence, each chewing on their own argument. "And say that Breha _does_ stay, then what? I'm seen as spineless and brainless and unwilling to stand up for what and who I believe in? Not only by the people, but by _her_?" Bail protested. _That_ was the last thing he wanted. Jules looked him hard in the eyes for a moment.

"What is all this about?"

"What do you mean? This is about making sure that Breha can become the queen of Alderaan, as she rightfully should."

"Do you _love_ her?" Jules demanded.

"I…yes, I believe so," Bail answered quietly.

"You better not be doing this because of _that_. If you truly believe that she's the best choice for the monarch, then so be it. But if you're doing this just to win points with her or—"

"That's _not_ what this is about," Bail interrupted. Jules took a deep breath and continued quietly after a beat.

"As long as you're sure. You must be cautious, Bail. Don't give them a single foothold to say you're doing this for any reason other than her merit as a ruler. You know they'll take any excuse they can get to discount defense of her. The people who are against her aren't going to play this straight, Bail. You must keep your hands 100 percent clean if you want to give Princess Breha any chance at keeping the crown," Jules explained. Bail nodded. He knew everything his advisor said was true. The Ranleys desperately wanted to take the throne for which Breha was so obviously destined.

"I'm going to have to take a step back from her. That's what you're saying," Bail confirmed, _dreading_ the answer.

"Yes, Bail. I'm sorry. Just until this all blows over," he promised.

Bail glanced in the partially-open top drawer of his desk where the piece of stationary rested. He was going to have to put that part of life on hold for a while. Right now, the only thing that mattered was seeing that Breha took her rightful place as queen.

"I understand."

"I'll let you get to work on your testimony, then. I'll be in my office if you need something."

Bail put his head in his hands. He'd been waiting more than a year to tell Breha how he felt, and now he was going to have to put it off for even longer.

Eyes still closed, he leaned to the side and accidentally upset a holo. He righted the small base and looked over the small blue projection of his parents. They were smiling happily at each other, and he could tell that his mother had been laughing heartily. It made Bail smile a bit, remembering a few weeks back when he'd made Breha laugh like that during their evening conversation.

Didn't he deserve moments like that with her? Didn't _they_ deserve moments like that _together_? Couldn't the galaxy spare them a few lingering kisses and a blurry holo or two?

Bail glanced up at the portrait of the late queen hanging near the door. Brindel wore the crown jewels and was standing regally, looking straight ahead. A small smile graced her lips, and Bail recognized the expression as one that Breha often wore.

He sighed.

She deserved _that_ : the responsibility and the respect that came with the office, the chance to leave her mark on Alderaan.

There was no question in Bail's mind as he locked the letter in his desk, took out his datapad, and started writing his testimony.

00

Mirnora came in just before Breha began packing up for the evening.

"Senator Antilles is here. I told him you were going to be leaving soon, but he insisted it was urgent. Shall I let him in?"

"By all means, yes." The girl turned to admit the senator. Breha ran a hand over her hair and glanced in the mirror quickly before he walked in.

"Good evening, Your Majesty," Bail greeted succinctly.

"Good evening," she replied, smiling, hardly able to contain her excitement. He appeared…not nervous, exactly—almost stressed, worried, like he was anxious and uncomfortable. Breha was barely able to focus on their brief discussion about a trivial matter that didn't really require her input and was far from urgent.

"I'm afraid I must return to Coruscant."

"When?"

"As soon as I can return to my sisters' apartment and gather my things. Something…something has come up and I need to leave." Bail didn't appear at all happy about this.

"Could I offer any assistance? Would you like to talk about it, even just to get it off your chest?" she offered.

"No, no. I…couldn't trouble you with it," he excused. That stung a bit. They'd long ago dispensed with that sort of side-stepping.

"Very well, if you're sure," Breha agreed, seeing that he had no desire to discuss the matter further.

He rose to leave and Breha stood hopefully along with him.

"Your Highness, I…"

"Yes?" Her heart was pounding against her chest. This was it: he'd give her the completed letter, and they'd confess their love for one another; perhaps he'd kiss her…

"I'm afraid I won't be able to escort you to the ball next month. Something's come up and I won't have time to come back to the planet," Bail apologized.

"Oh, yes…I understand, of course. These things do happen," Breha assured him, biting back a frown.

"I do have a small consolation, however," he added, and Breha felt herself nearly trembling with anticipation.

"Yes?"

"My sister, Celly, will be attending the ball in my absence, and I am sure she'd be delighted with your company, if it would please you." Breha was beginning to get seasick from all this up and down with her emotions.

"Oh. Indeed, I would be very grateful for her company."

"I will tell her you're looking forward to it, then. Good night, Your Highness."

"Good night." Bail turned and left without so much as a smile.

 _AN:Please don't kill me...and please leave me a review! (Stars, I am needy...)_

 _Just two more chapters and the epilogue left to go!_

 _Wednesday: well, you'll just have to come back and read, I guess..._


	8. The Last Testimonial

Bail returned to Coruscant without ceremony. He sent a brief message saying that he'd be tied up late into the night and not to bother waiting up until he was free. The day after, they spoke for a very brief time, but he was very distracted and distant, so she didn't press him. The following day, he didn't even answer, and he didn't respond to her message. Breha stopped calling after that. All their official correspondence was handled by Mirnora and Jules.

It didn't take a genius to see what was going on.

 _Everyone_ had started to look at her differently since the formation of the Provisional Council, and opinions fluctuated like the tides after every new announcement. She'd foolishly thought that Bail was somehow immune to those things, that his opinions of her were formed by their interactions and not by her standing with the Provisional Council.

Bail had been willing to support her—until the day he'd been subpoenaed. Then, he'd skittered back to Coruscant with his tail between his legs. It hurt Breha more than she cared to admit that he had been completely devoted to her until his job and reputation came on the line.

He had been more than just a peer, more than a man she'd had a simple crush on, and that was what made it hurt more. Bail Antilles was possibly her best friend— _only_ friend—in the whole galaxy. He'd been her confidant, the only person with whom she could share anything—or so she thought.

She'd had a good cry about it all in bed one night, but then she'd locked it up with all the rest of the things she couldn't feel in public. Now, it lay dormant in the pit of her stomach, along with betrayal from the government she was supposed to be leading, helplessness as her father's sanity slipped into the distance, and grief over the loss of her mother.

Eventually, those feelings would have to be aired out and dealt with. Right now, though, she was settling for taking things one day at a time.

00

The testaments began exactly one standard month after the subpoenas went out. Breha was required to sit in on all the sessions, listening to the testimonies.

There were a fair number of people who had positive things to say, but they were all drowned out by the words of those who thought her unfit to rule. People from every noble house testified, as well as several representatives from the House of Commons, and all the regional ministers. It was rare that someone repeated exactly the words of a prior speaker, but Breha could hear the same truth ringing through in most of the speeches: _she's not good enough. She's not old enough. She doesn't love Alderaan enough._ She's not enough.

"Your highness, Senator Antilles has just landed and he is requesting audience," Mirnora said over the intercom.

"Regarding?"

"He didn't say."

"I'm far too busy, Mirnora. I'm going up to check on my father before going back to the council session," Breha dismissed.

There were two notes on her datapad from Mirnora after the afternoon and evening sessions that Bail had requested a meeting with her again. Breha told her secretary to ignore them both.

Perhaps she should feel a bit ashamed about brushing him off continually, but her nerves were on edge enough already after sitting and listening to people debating her worth as a ruler for nine straight hours. The last thing she wanted was to sit across from her best friend while he gave her some half-hearted excuse for why he'd left her completely alone at the most difficult time in her life thus far.

Breha had a quiet dinner by herself, worked her way though some daily correspondence, and fell into a fitful sleep.

00

The next day, Bail was scheduled to testify during the afternoon session. The morning hadn't been awful; both people who'd spoke had thrown their support to her, but she had had trouble focusing on anything other than the fact that in mere hours, Bail would be standing where they stood…

The council broke for lunch at noon, and there was a buzz in the room as all the people in attendance chattered about the remaining session. Due to his schedule, Bail was the final speaker of the hearings, the only speaker for the final afternoon session. The council would go into private session, and report their decision when it was made.

Breha couldn't bring herself to eat anything. She sat aimlessly at her desk for a little while, trying to focus on anything other than the anxiety gnawing at the pit of her stomach. Eventually, the princess gave up trying to be productive and started back toward the council chamber.

She came down the stairs to the hall just as Bail came up from the floor below. They paused awkwardly at the landing for a moment before turning together and starting toward the room.

The hallway wasn't narrow, but it could have been a parsec wide and that still would have been too close. The distance to the council chamber wasn't a long one, but it seemed to take hours as they walked side by side, endless discomfort and unsaid words dangling between them. He spoke just as they reached the doors.

"Your highness, I—"

"Bail, just…you don't need to explain yourself. I understand," she interrupted.

"Please, I at least owe you an explanation—"

"I don't _want_ one. You did what you thought was best, and that's nothing for which I can fault you," Breha conceded, turning to enter the room. He caught her elbow.

"Breha, it had to be this way. Jules and I, we talked it over, and this just seemed like the safest route."

"I said I don't fault you for your decision. That doesn't mean I must _like_ it, but I understand. I know what being on the wrong side of this debate could to do you and your career. All I ask is that, during your remarks, please…be kind. I don't think I could stand having my heart broken by you again," she pleaded quietly.

"Stars, I've made such a mess of things—I'm so sorry, that's not—this wasn't about that. You must believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt you in this way, my queen. Never in a million years. We thought it would be more prudent if—" Jules grabbed Bail by the arm, a slight look of mania on his face.

"A thousand pardons, your majesty, but I am afraid this is of the _utmost_ importance," Jules excused, spinning Bail away from Breha. "What is this? Don't you remember that little conversation we had about how _they_ couldn't know about this?" Jules hissed through his teeth gesturing towards the door. "How we said you had to take a few weeks off from your little love affair so they'd take you seriously? Well, having a little rendezvous right outside the door to the Council chamber probably isn't your best course of action."

"What in stars' name is he talking about?" Breha demanded.

"What I've been trying to tell you Breha—the council wouldn't take me seriously if they thought we had any semblance of a personal relationship, and I knew I had to do what was right—" Jules cut in again.

"You didn't _tell_ her about that?! Bail, what kind of _fool_ are you?!"

"The council is ready to begin," the scribe stated. Bail hurried in, followed by Jules, who was still chastising him for some reason yet unclear to Breha. She looked back down the hall to where Carlist was undoubtedly keeping watch.

"What just happened?"

"I'm not exactly sure, your highness. However, if you'd care to step inside, things might become a bit clearer."

00

"Please state your name for the record."

"I am Senator Bail Antilles." His expression was calm, but there was fire blazing behind his eyes. Breha wondered if this was what Bail looked like when he was addressing the senate.

"You may begin your testimony." She braced herself for whatever might come.

"I am here before the Provisional Council today to speak in favor of allowing the crown to remain in the House and Line of Organa.

"It is said that Princess Breha lacks the maturity and wisdom to take the throne. At just 23 standard years old, she does not have the knowledge it takes to run a planet. However, Breha sat beside Queen Brindel through the financial crisis three years ago, and helped to create the plan that spared Alderaan from the worst of the effects. She has seen the abolition of slavery on three mid-rim planets, she has done great humanitarian works on this planet and others, and she has guided our people through mourning our beloved Queen while putting her own grief aside. What more does she need to do to prove that she is up to the task?

"Princess Breha has been accused of being far too radical to be the queen. It has been said that her policies are far too avant-garde for Alderaan's stable culture built on tradition and custom. However, I believe that continuing with this mindset will keep Alderaan from advancing technologically along with the rest of the galaxy, and could put us, inside the space of a single generation, in league with Outer Rim and Far Reaches planets that refuse to bring themselves into the modern age. Planets where other beings are taken as slaves, treated as property and not as a living soul. Planets where women are disrespected and thought to be of inferior minds, where children are not given love and understanding and know only hardship and hatred."

Breha could scarcely breath. She'd heard most of these arguments before from several people, but everyone else's statements seemed to pale in comparison to his. After weeks of believing he thought her not worth the risk, hearing this was…incredible.

"Alderaan is one of very few worlds in our galaxy that functions so peacefully. We have long held the belief that aggression only leads to more aggression and not to resolution. We have, for generations, respected utmost our planet and its vast resources, taking only what we need and returning what we can, using practices that are not the most cost-effective or labor-saving, but instead leave the lightest trace, make our living sustainable.

"The princess' ideas are far from a threat to our great heritage. Instead, it seeks to train our young people to preserve the elements worth preserving and change the things that need changing. It gives me great pride to know that I might someday live on a planet where, because of Queen Brindel's and Princess Breha's actions, my daughter," Bail's eyes locked with Breha's, "could represent Alderaan in the galactic senate at an age even younger than mine right now.

"Queen Brindel became the queen at 28 years old, five years older than her daughter is now. She was, at the time, the youngest queen in Alderaan's history. Two weeks ago, she was named one of the most influential monarchs of the modern age by a galaxy-wide poll. Her great success was attributed to her youthful spirit, her willingness to break from archaic standards, and most importantly, her compassion for her people. I can assure you that Breha possesses these same qualities. I have seen it first hand: her willingness to hurry to the sight of a disaster, the way she strives to know personally each member of her staff, how she opens her heart to children…All we need to do is give her the chance to be great, and I assure you, she will not let us down. Thank you."

Bail stepped down from the stand and took his place beside Jules.

"The Provisional Council will now go into closed session until they have reached a decision."

00

Breha was moments away from giving in to the urge to pace. Her father was beside her. He was having a good day; he'd only repeated himself a few times.

The council had been in session for seven hours. Breha had spent most of that time locked in her office, waiting for Mirnora to let her know that the council was ready to announce their decision. Bail had come for her instead, and they'd walked down to the council chamber in silence. He'd taken her hand and squeezed it gently before opening the chamber door for her.

Now, they were waiting for the council to get organized. Abreth Fairfort walked forward and took the stand. Saul gripped his daughter's hands.

"It is the decision of this Provisional Council that the crown of Alderaan will remain in the house and line of Organa, and that Princess Breha will be allowed to ascend the throne if she so wishes."

Breha breathed a sigh of relief and turned to her father.

"You are your mother's daughter, little girl," Saul smiled, hugging her tightly. "Let me be the first—" he requested, stepping out of their hug and straightening his back. He bowed formally at the waist and offered his hand.

"At your service, my queen," he stated regally.

"Thank you, Papa," Breha murmured with tears in her eyes. Mirnora hurried forward, eyes shining, to curtsey.

"My queen," Bail greeted, taking her hand. "Queen Breha, the monarch of Alderaan," he called to the room.

"Your majesty, come. We must begin preparations for the coronation."

00

The rest of the night was a whirlwind. They hardly had time for celebration: the news of the council's decision was released to the press almost immediately, and everyone was pressed for a statement or an interview or their thoughts on this or that.

Breha sat at her desk, handling things with Mirnora, Saul, and Bail before Jules swept in to take Bail to handle his own correspondence.

Saul started to nod off in his chair somewhere around 0300, and Breha asked Mirnora to take him up to the residence and then to turn in herself.

Bail knocked on her door sometime around dawn, wearing his traveling cloak.

"I'm returning to Coruscant," he informed her.

"So soon?"

"I'm afraid so. Would you walk with me down to the hangar?" he requested. Breha agreed and accepted his arm. Carlist followed, ever watchful. Bail's hand covered hers that was tucked in her elbow. "Have you slept?"

"I dozed for a few moments."

"I imagine there will be very few moments for rest in the next two weeks," Bail said.

"I hope you won't be too busy to answer my communications. Mirnora will have far too much to do to be handling all of our correspondence."

"I'll make sure there's time," he assured her. "I'll call tonight, unless that makes me seem like a royal kiss-up," he teased. Breha chuckled sleepily and leaned her temple against his arm momentarily.

"A moment, please, Carlist," Breha requested when they reached the launch pad. He nodded and turned back down the hall.

Bail took both of her hands in his and sought her eyes.

"Please believe me when I tell you that I never meant to hurt you," Bail promised, "and I will spend the rest of my life assuring that you never feel that alone again, if you'll let me." Breha nodded.

"I do believe you, and I think I'd like that," she smiled. Bail's face grew into a grin, also. His hands tightened around hers.

"You'll make a magnificent queen, Breha," he insisted, grazing her knuckles with his thumbs. "I'm counting down the moments until I'm back for the coronation."

"I shall be here to greet you with open arms," she promised. They were both silent for a moment, putting off their inevitable goodbye.

"Be well, my queen," Bail offered.

"Clear skies," she returned. He pressed a gentle kiss into her fingers, gave her one last smile, and walked out to the hangar bay.

 _AN: Yayy! Everything is right in Bail-and-Breha-land! Please leave a review!_

 _Sunday: The final full chapter... The coronation, and...some other stuff ;)_


	9. The Coronation

Time before the coronation flew by with hurried preparations and hastily made plans.

Finally, the eve of the grand day was upon them. Breha'd been hoping to be at the platform to greet Bail when he landed, but he'd been delayed on Coruscant and would be landing very late. She received confirmation of his arrival just before heading to her quarters for the evening. If the hour hadn't been late, Breha would have hurried to find him. Instead, she chose to make sure everything was set for the coming day and try to get some sleep.

Her coronation dress hung on a stand near her dressing table. The satin gown was bright white and had a hand-embroidered design. The embroidery was done with golden silk and was made to look like a starflower vine. Small blue starflowers were stitched among the gold vines. The design started at the waist, twining upwards toward the neckline where the pattern spilled over her shoulders and cascaded elegantly down the back of the dress in a sparkling trail that snaked its way down the three-meter train. It had been specially designed to match the crown jewels and the decorations of the sacred temple.

The crown jewels of Alderaan were made of kyber crystals set in gold. There was a choker necklace that had 13 crystals, the largest hanging in the center and the others tapering off to form a V at her neck. The earrings glittered with delicate crystals that dangled elegantly.

The highlights of the parure, of course, were the headpieces. There was a tiara and a crown—one to be worn by the princess and one to be worn by the queen. The tiara was the smaller of the two: nine crystals standing erect , the shortest on both ends and rising to meet at the highest point in the middle. The crown, however, was a full circlet of crystals of varying lengths and arranged so that it formed a wave-like pattern with the tallest peak over the center of the forehead. She'd worn the tiara on a few occasions before, but the crown belonged to the queen. Tomorrow, the Holy Priest would remove the tiara from her head and put the crown in its place.

Breha fingered the silk-lined jewel case on her dressing table that held the parure.

She looked up at the portrait of her mother on the wall. Brindel was wearing the kyber jewels in the painting, the longest crystal on the necklace barely brushing her sternum, the earrings dangling evenly, the crown nestled in her braids, the crystals like rays of light. Her mother looked so graceful in the portrait. The painter had somehow managed to capture the warmth in her eyes and the love in her smile. For the first time since her mother's death, Breha could look at the painting and cherish the memories rather than feel the loss.

She smiled fondly at the painting and looked at the second gown hanging on the stand.

Her second dress for the day—for the banquet and ball—was a bit less extravagant. It was lavender and was made of a light, airy material that would float elegantly around the ballroom. It had little cap sleeves, and the bodice was covered with little white flowers that started thinning out at the hips. There were little pleats at the waist that gave the dress a long, flowy appearance, and there were more white flowers around the hem. Her jewelry was also far more conservative for the banquet and the ball. She'd wear her favorite flowered hair clip and a simple gold choker and earrings with the lavender dress.

Satisfied that everything was in order, Breha sifted through her wardrobe for a nightgown.

There was a quiet tapping at the door, and she recognized the playful knock of her father.

"Still up, Little Girl?" he asked when she opened the door to him.

"I'm a bit nervous, and besides. I have a few things to look over before the morning," Breha excused.

"Have you gone to see the Senator?" Saul asked, giving her a wink. Breha rolled her eyes and gave him an exasperated smile.

"No. He just got in a few hours ago and I imagine he wanted to see his sisters."

"Well, that's fine. I have something for you." Saul reached into his pocket and pulled out a small leather jewelry case. He offered it to Breha, and she took it carefully from him and opened it.

"The Consort's pin…." Breha brushed her fingers over the small row of kyber crystals nestled against the velvet lining.

It was like the crown in that the crystals alternated between tall and short, creating a wave-like pattern. It was worn by the Viceroy over his heart and was traditionally given by the queen to a man as a marriage promise.

"Papa, I…I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything, Little Girl. You just have to promise me that you'll give this to someone who will love you as much as I loved your mother."

"Thank you, Papa," Breha breathed, setting the case aside and wrapping her arms tightly around her father.

"You're welcome, Little Girl. Now get some rest—it wouldn't do for our new queen to be yawning during the ceremony," Saul teased, patting her back comfortingly.

Her father turned to go back to his own chamber and almost ran into Mirnora.

"Pardon me, Your Majesties, but the Senator has sent an important document that needs your immediate attention," the girl stated, holding out a thin piece of parchment. Saul shot her a wink and walked with Mirnora down the hall. Breha looked over the paper envelope and her heart started fluttering rapidly. There was only one thing this could be. Breha locked the door behind her secretary and went to her desk for a letter-opener. Her hands were trembling as she drew the gold blade along the crease and extracted the parchment. The letter, this time, was complete.

' _My darling-_

 _It is with great trepidation and an anxious heart that I write this, but I find that I can be silent no longer. You must know by now my feelings—I am sure you do, my darling, as I have not been good at hiding them—but what man who is in love with such a wonderful woman as I should wish to hide it? And there it is, my darling. I have said it. I love you. I see the heavens in your eyes and feel the rush of the gentlest summer's breeze at the sound of your voice. I feel for you what poets and artists and musicians have tried to describe since the beginning of the ages…but my darling, how they have failed. Never has a poet written words with greater wit than those that fall from your rose-red lips. An artist could never hope to capture the beauty of your spirit, the gentleness of your mind, the depths of your soul. No song has ever been sung that could compare with the musicality of your laughter, my love. You, my darling, you are the true Queen of Alderaan, and truly, you are the queen of my heart. My love for you runs deeper than any ocean or sea, blazes brighter than any star in any sky. I pray only that I have understood you, that you return my feelings._

 _All my love, Bail'_

Breha held the letter to her chest and closed her eyes, a giddy smile crossing her face. She looked down at the letter again and wondered if a person could faint from happiness. Her eyes fell on the blue leather case on the table. She opened it, carefully examining the crystals.

' _P_ _romise me that you'll give this to someone who will love you as much as I loved your mother,'_ her father had requested.

"I found him, Papa. I found him."

00

Bail was seated next to his sisters, and he could barely keep his hands still in his lap. Rouge had smacked his wrists so many times that he had a faint red mark appearing beneath the cuff of his sleeve. He'd spared a glance out the window that morning and was surprised at the number of people already lining the streets to wait for their new queen to parade by after the crowning ceremony.

The trumpets sounded, startling Bail. Rouge elbowed him slyly, and he rose with the rest of the assembly as the processional began. He watched distractedly as the high priests filed in, and the honor guard of the military, proudly displaying Alderaan's flag. Finally, the Holy Priest processed in. He stepped up to the dais and reverently took his place near the alter.

The choir began singing the Alderaanian anthem, and Queen Breha stepped into the hall. She was beautiful. She looked every bit a queen in her white and gold dress with the long train following behind her. She was smiling confidently at the assembly, her eyes straight ahead.

Breha saw him out of the corner of her eye, grinning like a madman, but she did not turn her head. The only person who pulled her attention away was her father, standing off to the side of the alter. There were tears in his eye as he beamed proudly at her.

"Pray, kneel," the Priest requested. Breha did as he asked and felt him lift the tiara from her hair. "Pray, stand," he bade, and Breha rose.

"Do you, Breha Organa, promise to uphold and protect the people of Alderaan, as the Force has willed it and as the Force shall will it?"

"I do."

"Do you, gathered here today, sincerely promise and swear that you will be faithful, and bear true allegiance to her majesty Queen Breha Organa of Alderaan? If you do, respond 'We will.'"

Bail raised his right hand and recited the pledge with the rest of the assembly.

"Turn, Queen Breha, and face your people." Breha turned slowly, her train gathering around her feet. The Holy Priest gently lifted the kyber crown from the tray and placed it on Breha's head. The assembly rose and the choir began the anthem again. Breha could not contain her smile as she looked out through the assembly. Her gaze fell on Bail, and their eyes locked. It hardly seemed possible, but his smile grew even more. The trumpets sounded again through the last strains of the anthem.

"People of Alderaan, stand and greet your queen."

00

After the crowning ceremony, there was a parade through the streets of Aldera, and after the parade, as a banquet, and after the banquet, a ball. Bail was not able to get very close to Breha, nor did he try. He was a patient man; he'd wait until she had more than half a moment to give him, even if he had to wait all night.

The party died down somewhere around 0130, and it was still another hour yet before he found her. She was leaned against the railing, looking out over the vast gardens and the lake beyond, the mountains making a perfect cradle for the rising moon. Her purple gown was covered by a knit shawl, her shoes and formal wrap discarded on a nearby bench _._

"Good evening, My Queen," he greeted as he stepped closer to her.

"Good evening, Senator. I must admit, I was more than a bit disappointed when you weren't in the endless line of beings waiting to dance with me," she scolded with mock severity, turning a bit to face him.

"You have far too many well-wishers, Your Highness," he teased, brushing his hand over her arm.

"I have something very important to discuss with you," Breha said, dropping into a more serious tone of voice. "Rather, I have something important I'd like to _give_ you," she amended, turning back to the bench where her wrap was. She extracted something from the pocket and turned back to him.

She was holding an envelope— _the_ envelope—and a dark-colored jewelry case.

"Bail, this letter—it was everything I've ever wanted to hear, and I want you to know that it's all true for me, too. I love you. I love you so much," Breha whispered. He smiled brightly in relief.

"I'm glad."

"I'd like to give this to you. It's…well, it's usually given for betrothal, and I know we're not even courting, but I feel you should know where I think this relationship is going. We wouldn't have to…announce it publicly for a while," she rambled. Bail held up a hand to stop her.

"I accept, Breha," he responded sincerely.

The hand that was tracing the pattern of the shawl wound quickly around her back, and she didn't resist his nudge. It felt so good to finally be this close to him, not seeking comfort or solace, just being close for the sake of being close. Breathing him in, feeling the warmth and strength of his embrace. They fit so well together, her forehead falling against his cheek, their arms and shoulders at just the right height to make the embrace cozy but not uncomfortable.

He turned just enough to press his lips into her forehead, and Breha tipped her head back in silent invitation. His kiss was warm and comforting, like coming home after a long time away. There was a hint of the sweet wine on his breath. Breha felt the kiss through her entire being, shivering down her spine and tingling through the ends of her fingers and the tips of her toes. She knew instantly that, no matter how many times he kissed her like that again, she'd never tire of it. It tasted deliciously of promise, promise of a wonderful future together.

Bail's forehead fell to hers when the kiss broke. They stood like that in the moonlight for several minutes, holding each other, enjoying finally being close. Breha tucked the pin into his pocket.

"Care to take a moonlit stroll, My Darling?" Bail asked.

"I'd love to."

 _AN: And with that, we've arrived! This is the final full-length chapter-epilogue on Wednesday! I'd love to know what you thought, especially if you've waited until the end to review the story!_

 _If you want to see my inspiration pictures for the Alderaanian parure and for Breha's gowns, hop on over to my tumblr to take a peek!_

 _Thanks again to amilyhn, captainskysolo, corellian-smuggler, and julie-yard for all their help and support with brain-storming, writing, and editing. And thank you to all of YOU who have made publishing this just lovely!_


	10. Epilogue

"Head up, just a bit—tilt your chin down—there, just like that," Celly directed from behind her easel. Her friend—her queen—did as she asked, and Celly made a few marks on the canvas.

"I'm so glad the Collective selected you to do this," Breha said, trying not to move her mouth too much.

"As am I," Celly responded, mixing the right shade of pigment on her pallet. It had been almost three months since the coronation and her brother's crazy announcement that he and the queen of the kriffing planet were going to be married. Everything had been a bit of a whirlwind since then—Celly had found out that she was a finalist in the competition to be the one to paint the coronation portrait; Bail and Breha had announced their relationship publicly, which had somehow made Celly some sort of celebrity for a few days; Breha had made an effort, around her already-packed schedule, to get to know the Antilles sisters. They'd had a chance to rekindle their friendship from grade school, and she fit in immediately with Rouge and Tia, too.

"Can you warm up that smile a little?" Celly requested. She heard the door behind her open and Breha's small smile became a beautiful, genuine grin. "That's perfect," Celly exclaimed, hurrying to capture the moment in pigment. It didn't take a great scholar to guess who'd walked in the door.

"Two of my favorite ladies," Bail greeted, coming in and looking at the canvas in front of his sister. "You're doing that wrong," he scolded in his best big-brother tone. Celly rolled her eyes, but didn't pause the careful movement of her brush.

"Really?" she asked. "Tell me, how many years did you spend in art school on Coruscant? Did you go through the insane interview process to be selected for the Painters' Collective, and then compete against the top artists on the planet for the chance to paint this portrait?" Celly finally put her brush in the jar of paint thinner and turned to face her brother with a impertinent look. "What's wrong with it, oh Great Master of the Arts? Impart your wisdom."

"You forgot her halo," Bail stated simply. Celly gave a dramatic roll of her eyes. She glanced between her brother and his fiancée—the _kriffing queen_. They were smiling stupidly at each other, communicating in that wordless way disgustingly-in-love people communicated.

"If you'll pardon me for a moment, I'm going to step out and vomit," Celly interrupted blithely. "In fact, please contact me when you've finished this revolting honeymoon phase," she requested.

"I don't know that it will be over at any point in the foreseeable future," Breha replied.

"Bail, please remind me not to enter the competition to paint your wedding portrait. I can't _imagine_ what you are going to be like in three months. Now, stand there for a moment and smile away at each other so I can finish this section," Celly requested. Bail nodded absently, smiling at Breha.

Celly rolled her eyes again and pulled a new brush out of the holder. She mixed a new color and began painting the queen's radiant smile.

 _AN: And with that, it's over :'D Please leave a review, and thank you so much for reading!_


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